


Pain Empathy

by Queenbean3



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amputation, Broken Bones, Canon Disabled Character, Car Accidents, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Injury Recovery, Insomnia, Major Character Injury, Self Confidence Issues, Sleep Deprivation, implied delpad, this is mostly platonic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:03:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27143566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenbean3/pseuds/Queenbean3
Summary: Splitting his life between Duckburg and St. Canard, Launchpad has been spreading himself too thin and losing sleep. His mental and physical health slowly deteriorates until one day his drowsiness at the wheel results in a crash he can't walk away from. Much to his surprise, Della is the one who steps in to support him the most.
Relationships: Della Duck & Launchpad McQuack, Della Duck/Launchpad McQuack
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	1. Injury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Launchpad has been spreading himself too thin. He works in Duckburg all day, then in St. Canard all night, and has no time for sleep in between. When his exhaustion finally leads to a crash he can't walk away from, Della steps up to fill in for him as both Scrooge's driver and Darkwing Duck's sidekick. After all, if Launchpad can do it then so can she. Right?

It had been two weeks since Launchpad started his side gig crimefighting alongside Drake Mallard and Gosalyn Waddlemeyer. Two weeks since he began commuting back and forth between Duckburg and St. Canard.

Two weeks since he had last slept a full seven hours.

The lack of sleep was taking a toll on his body. He was drowsy all the time, unable to concentrate or remember things, and his physical strength was draining away. He tried to counteract these effects by consuming large amounts of caffeine. He drank four cups of coffee every morning, four cans of energy drinks at midday, and even more coffee in the evening. This was enough to keep him awake for hours on end, but when he did have time to sleep he was too agitated. He would toss and turn over and over, unable to relax or stop his racing thoughts.

It wasn’t until he began dozing off at random times that he questioned if his decision to live this double life had been the wrong one. In the daytime he got to adventure with Scrooge McDuck, and in the nighttime he got to fight crime with Darkwing Duck. He was living his dreams, and now he had two amazing families counting on him. It was his desire to protect them and fear of letting them down that kept him from taking any breaks.

One morning Launchpad was especially worn out from a long night of patrolling the streets of St. Canard. Not only had he slept for only ten minutes the night before, but he had no time to eat, shower, or even change clothes. Even so he refused to cancel his flying lesson with Della. He rarely got any chances to fly nowadays and he’d be damned if he was going to give this one up over a silly little thing like not getting enough sleep.

Unfortunately he was so drowsy that he was unable to get the plane off the ground. Instead he crashed it into the closed doors of the hangar, leaving a large dent without even getting it out of the building.

Naturally Della wasn't pleased about this. “Hey, no dozing off at the wheel!”

“Ahh! I’m awake? I’m awake!” He snatched up a canned energy drink, put it to his beak and gulped down its contents in one gulp. “Whew! Sorry about that Miss Dee! No more dozing off now! I’m bright eyed and bushy tailed!”

Della didn’t think Launchpad looked bright eyed or bushy tailed. There were dark purple bags under his drooping, bloodshot eyes and reddish stubble covering his chin. His copper hair was disheveled, his tie was crooked, and he had buttoned his dirty shirt wrong. He looked like a drunken hobo in dire need of a nap. “Jeez, L.P. You look like death warmed over. When was the last time you got any sleep?”

Launchpad’s beak opened hugely and a yawn came out, weary and melancholic. “I don’t have time for sleep,” he said, trying his best to sound chipper even as his entire body sagged. “Too many people need me. Mrs. B wants to teach me some martial arts moves for F.O.W.L.’s next attack. Then I have to plan a new activity for my Junior Woodchucks, get Mr. McDee from work, and tonight it’s back to St. Canard again.”

Della frowned at him with ever increasing worry. She began to think she shouldn’t have let Launchpad fly today. “Maybe we should cancel. You can’t even keep your eyes open.”

“Yes I can,” he replied, his head sinking down as his eyelids sagged shut again. “I just...need...more...caffeine...” His head thumped on the console as he snored loudly.

That was it. Della turned off the ignition and removed the keys. “This lesson is cancelled.”

Launchpad shook himself awake and blinked at her. “B-But--”

“No buts. You’re taking a nap.”

* * *

Launchpad had no choice but to cooperate with Della's orders. The flying lesson was cancelled. But even though she told him to rest, he did the exact opposite. He spent the entire day working and guzzling more and more caffeinated drinks until night came. Then he took the limo and headed for the Audubon Bay Bridge.

Unfortunately his body had finally reached a point where caffeine no longer kept him awake.

The instant his heavy eyelids sagged shut for a few seconds his burned out brain immediately went into sleep mode. While he dozed the limo began to drift out of its lane and into oncoming traffic. The sound of a horn blaring at him didn’t wake him, but the delivery truck slamming into him head on certainly did.

His eyes flew open and his heart rate shot up, but his reflexes reacted too slowly to keep the limo from flying sideways into a car behind him, flying upward, and flipping upside down. Then as the limo crashed roof first on the road and tumbled over and over, Launchpad heard a dry, sickening crunch and felt a jolt of pain shoot up through his left leg. When the car finally stopped moving it was lying sideways in heap of twisted metal and broken glass, the driver’s door pinned shut.

Launchpad’s head was still spinning as he tried to catch his breath. His brain was still running too slow, not fully grasping the situation yet. He had crashed, that much was obvious, but for once this might be a crash he couldn’t walk away from. His left leg was still throbbing with pain as he looked down at it. There was piece of bone piercing through his pant leg at an unnatural angle, surrounded by a rapidly spreading blood stain.

Launchpad’s stomach lurched at the sight. Then he blacked out.

* * *

When Scrooge got word of Launchpad’s accident, he called Della to drive him to the hospital in Duckburg. She took the Jeep and drove as fast as she could, her stomach cold and heavy with dread. She had been afraid that Launchpad would finally get hurt in a crash, and today her fears finally came true. He must have been worse off than she thought if he had lost his ability to crash safely. 

When Della and Scrooge arrived at the hospital they found someone else in the waiting area who had come to visit Launchpad; a masked duck in a strange purple costume and a young teenage girl. Scrooge had met them both before but to Della they were strangers.

"There you are!" the duck dressed in purple exclaimed the instant he saw Scrooge. He was both frantic and dramatic as he began ranting at the older duck. "Where have you been? Do you have any idea what almost happened? You're Launchpad's boss! Why did you let him get behind the wheel when he was so tired?!"

Scrooge growled at him. "Why didn't _you_ stop him? You're the masked weirdo he fights crime with every night! He was fine until he started gallivanting around with you when he should be sleeping!" A pause. "By the way, what was your name again?"

The purple-dressed duck hissed through his teeth. _"Dark. Wing. **Duck**."_

While Scrooge and Darkwing continued arguing, the teenage girl introduced herself to Della. “I’m Gosalyn. We’re friends of Launchpad from St. Canard.”

“So you’re the friends he hangs out with every night,” Della replied, shaking Gosalyn’s hand. “I’m Della, Scrooge’s niece. Have you heard anything about Launchpad since you got here?”

Gosalyn shook her head and started nervously twisting the strings on her hoodie. “Not yet. We got here just before you did.”

Della smiled sympathetically and took a seat next to her. “You must be pretty worried about him, huh?”

Gosalyn grunted, not making eye contact. “Yeah, I guess so. I haven’t known him that long, but...he’s pretty important to me and Darkwing.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Della said. “He’s important to my family, too. I don’t know what we’d do without him.”

“He's gonna be okay, right?” Gosalyn asked, green eyes filled with anxiety.

“Of course,” Della said without hesitation. "I've never seen anyone who survives crashes like Launchpad does. Even if he's hurt now, he'll be back on his feet in no time."

* * *

Soon a stern-looking woman behind the front desk told them that Launchpad was in the intensive care unit. He could now receive visitors, but only two at a time. To decide which pair would go first, Scrooge and Darkwing Duck arm wrestled. Scrooge won.

Launchpad was waking up from surgery when Della and Scrooge came to his room. Della felt a lump in her throat when she saw the poor shape Launchpad was in. He was lying in a hospital bed and dressed in a gown, an IV tube attached to his right arm. His mind was in a foggy haze from the sedatives he’d been given, and his body was covered with cuts and bruises. His entire left leg was in a splint and his foot was resting on a pillow. The sight of his leg specifically made Della's stomach lurch. It reminded her too much of what had happened to her own leg on the moon and the horrifying experience she went through alone.

Launchpad's first thought upon becoming lucid was that he was late for work and the fear that Scrooge would be furious. Then he saw Scrooge in the room with him and sat bolt upright with frantic eyes. His worst fears were all coming true in this moment. “M-M-M-Mr. McDee! I'm sorry I'm late! Are you here to fire me?”

Scrooge gave him an odd look. “No, Launchpad. You’re in the hospital.”

“Oh, good." Launchpad replied, slumping over with relief and exhaustion. He peered around at his room blearily. "Why am I in the hospital?”

“You were in a really nasty limo accident,” Della said. “We spoke to the doctor. She said you’ve got a mild concussion and a broken leg.”

Launchpad stared at Della through his bleary eyes. “What? No, I don’t. I’m fit as a fiddle. See?” He gestured at his legs to prove his point, only to see the cast. He stared at it as if seeing the injury for the first time. “Huh. That's new.”

"Don't you remember anything?" Della replied, trying not to lose her patience.

He squeezed his eyes shut and furrowed his brows in concentration. “Mmmm....I remember I was driving across a bridge when I fell asleep at the wheel.” His eyes widened as his heart sank in his chest. “What time is it now?”

Scrooge checked his watch. “It's 9:15 PM.”

Launchpad’s his jaw went slack and his eyes bugged out. “Oh no, I’m late! I was supposed to meet Darkwing Duck hours ago!” He flung the covers off and swung his legs over the side of the bed, fully intending to stand up. But the second he put weight on his left foot a jolt of pain shot up from his heel through his knee. With a shocked gasp he crumpled to the floor, crashing down on his right hip and sucking in air through his teeth. “I-I’m okay!” he groaned. “It’s just a little tumble. I’m fine.”

Della rushed to his side. She knelt down on the floor and pulled Launchpad’s left arm around her shoulder. “Come on, big guy. You’re not going anywhere on that leg. You need to rest.” 

As he was lifted back into bed Launchpad's leg was still throbbing with pain. He hissed through gritted teeth, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered, losing all his strength as he was lowered back onto the mattress. “I don’t think I can drive you to work tomorrow, Mr. McDee.”

“Good, because you shouldn't," Della said firmly. "Uncle Scrooge, I never thought it was possible, but Launchpad is officially too injured to work. You have to give him time off.”

Scrooge frowned in disappointment. “I suppose you're right. He certainly can't work with his leg like that. But now I need to hire a driver to take his place. Where am I going to find someone cheap who can do everything Launchpad can?"

Della went quiet for a moment as an idea dawned on her. “You're looking at her.”

Scrooge blinked at her incredulously. “Wait, what?”

“I’ll do it,” Della said firmly. “I’ll take care of Launchpad’s driving and piloting work. You won't even have to pay me! And Launchpad can stay at the mansion with us where we can take care of him.”

“What?!” Scrooge exclaimed. “Now see here, Della! You can’t go inviting people to live at my house! I’m not running a hotel here!”

“Would you rather pay for him to stay in the hospital the whole time?”

"You make a good point. His surgery will be expensive enough."

Launchpad stared at Della with big, surprised eyes. He never expected her of all people to do anything like this for him. “But what about Darkwing Duck?” Launchpad asked. “Somebody has to take my place as his sidekick every night.”

Della grinned hugely. "That sounds awesome! I've always wondered it what it would be like to be a crimefighter!"

“Oh no you don't, young lady!” Scrooge complained. “I won't let you go traipsing about with that masked milksop at all hours of the night!”

Della scoffed. "Come on, Uncle Scrooge. If Launchpad can do it, how hard can it be?"

* * *

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know I have a bigger Delpad fanfic to finish but I got inspired to write this one instead. This one is going to be a lot shorter.


	2. Substitute

Launchpad tried to make the best of his time at the hospital. He was high on painkillers most of the time, the food was mediocre, and the TV in his room didn’t have many channels. It was just as well for him because he only wanted to watch the news for any stories about his loved ones. No matter how many times they told him not to worry about them he still did.

Soon he received surgery on his broken left leg. The doctors had to realign his bones with screws and close up the skin with stitches. Then they put a plaster cast around his leg from his toes up to his hip. When he was released from the hospital he was given a prescription for painkillers and a wheelchair. 

Della came to pick him up in a rental limo. Seeing her wearing his brown chauffeur cap made Launchpad feel an odd twinge of unease. 

She helped him get into the back of the limo and loaded his wheelchair into the trunk. He tried to figure out how to fit his leg into the cramped space and ended up sitting sideways with his leg stretched out on the backseat.

“Wow. So this is what it’s like to be in the back of a limo,” Launchpad wondered aloud. “Thanks a lot for picking me up, Miss Dee.”

“No problem-o, L.P.!” Della said cheerfully. “How’s the leg feeling today?”

“Still broken,” Launchpad said with a sigh. “The doctors all said I can’t put any weight on it for weeks.”

“You’re not gonna need to worry about that when you’re at the mansion,” Della replied. “We built ramps over the stairs so you can get around in your wheelchair. And Mrs. B will cook all your meals for you.”

Launchpad squirmed guiltily in his seat. He wasn’t even at the mansion yet and already he felt like a burden. “Are you sure you wanna do all my work for me? Driving for Mr. McDee isn’t as easy as it looks. And working with Darkwing Duck takes _years_ of intense training and study. Have you ever watched any episodes of the show?”

“I don’t have time,” Della said. “My day as a substitute limo driver is packed. First I have to take Uncle Scrooge to the Money Bin. Then I’m taking him to the bank, and then I’m taking his spats to the dry cleaners--”

Launchpad interrupted. “At least watch the first season before you go to St. Canard! It’s the only way for you to be truly prepared!”

Della scoffed. “I don’t need to watch some silly show to learn how to punch bad guys. I spent twenty years doing that with Scrooge McDuck.”

“Okay,” Launchpad said, not reassured at all. “But if you have any questions you can call me on my phone any time. Do you have my phone number? Or a phone?”

Della sighed and angled the rearview mirror so she could look Launchpad in the eye. “Yes, I have a phone. I’ll check in with you when I have time. But please, L.P., try not to worry so much. You have to rest if you’re gonna get better.”

He held her gaze for a moment before sinking back and sighing. “I...I’ll try.”

* * *

When they arrived at the mansion Della only stayed long enough to drop off Launchpad and pick up Scrooge. Her first day as his chauffeur did not go the way she expected. She assumed that she’d only be spending the day shuttling him around Duckburg. To her surprise he expected much more from her than simply driving him from place to place. She also had to run errands for him at the bank, the dry cleaners, the grocery store, and anywhere else he didn’t want to go himself.

At the middle of the day when Della finally had time for lunch, she also had to refill the limo’s gas tank. She had to pay for it out of her own pocket, grumbling all the while. Then as she was leaving the gas station she drove over a nail and popped one of the tires. She tried to change the flat herself but the spare tire in the trunk was flat, too. She had no choice but to call a roadside service to bring her a new one.

That evening she had to drive Scrooge home from work during rush hour. Unfortunately for her she didn’t have the same patience with slow traffic that Launchpad did. Everyone around her was honking their horn and yelling curse words. And then one especially rude driver cut her off when it was her turn to change lanes. Della furiously slammed the horn and swore loudly.

Scrooge did not approve. “Launchpad would have never done that,” he scolded.

Della banged her head on the steering wheel and groaned. 

* * *

Della’s stress didn’t end when night came. Instead of eating a quiet dinner with her family she had to go to St. Canard and do Launchpad’s work there. She thought fighting crime with a real superhero would be fun, but she found that Darkwing Duck wasn’t so easy to get along with. In her opinion he was a prima donna. His insistence on style and showmanship irked her to no end. To his credit he did know what he was doing most of the time, but Della didn’t like being told what to do.

And this was all before there was an actual crime to thwart. After several hours of waiting W.A.N.D.A. alerted them to a bank robbery downtown. Darkwing, Gosalyn, and Della piled into the Ratcatcher and rushed to the scene of the crime. But when they got there they found the robbers had taken hostages. The plan Darkwing came up with was straight out of an old episode from a wacky 90s TV show, which Della had never watched. All she knew was that when Darkwing made his flashy entrance speech it spoiled the element of surprise and got them all captured.

Luckily Della knew who these robbers were. They were cousins of the Beagle Boys and operated under a similar low level of intelligence. The problem was they didn’t take Darkwing Duck seriously. Della’s plan was to trick them into abandoning the hostages by making them think Gizmoduck was coming. After that it was a simple matter of slipping out of their ropes and beating them in a fight.

However Darkwing was not a fan of Della’s plan, especially the Gizmoduck part. “Launchpad would have followed my plan,” he said coldly.

Della had to be held back by Gosalyn and two police officers.

* * *

On the drive back to Duckburg Della vented her frustration inside the limo with angry screaming.

_“Aaaaaaaagh!_ Stupid Scrooge! Stupid Darkwing Duck! Who do they think they are? I worked my butt off for them! And what thanks did I get? _None!”_

She channeled all her rage into her fist and punched the dashboard. Normally it would have left a dent, but she was so tired after her long day-slash-night that it only bruised her knuckles. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, trying to keep them open as she drove through the dark. 

“Is this what Launchpad has to put up with all the time?” she murmured to herself. “Man, I haven’t given the guy enough credit. He must have the patience of a saint to put up with all this nonsense day in and day out.”

Then her stomach sank. Crap. She had been so busy today that she completely forgot to check in with Launchpad. He had been so worried earlier. 

She needed to check on him when she got home. He was probably asleep by now, but she couldn’t relax until she knew he was okay.

* * *

Launchpad was not asleep.

The room Scrooge allowed him to stay in was much bigger and cleaner than his old room in the garage, and so fancy that he felt uncomfortable trying to touch anything. It was on the first floor of the mansion so he didn’t need to use the stairs. Mrs. Beakley brought him his meals, and while he ate Dewey would come keep him company. Launchpad appreciated the boy’s efforts to entertain him with games, stories, songs, and dances. But inevitably Dewey’s short attention span would get the better of him and Launchpad had nothing to do again.

He watched the news constantly and worried about all the horrible things that could happen to them while he wasn’t there to protect them. He called Drake and Gosalyn several times. Perhaps too many. They assured him they were fine and encouraged him to enjoy his time off. They were both competent fighters with skills and weapons that could do almost anything. They also had Gizmoduck’s number in case tey got desperate.

It led Launchpad to wonder if they truly needed him at all.

Every day Launchpad watched through his bedroom window as Della drove Scrooge to work in a rental limo, and then brought him home in the evening. He noticed that she never crashed or veered from the road when she drove. On some days the family would take the Sunchaser out on an adventure, once again with Della piloting. Her flying and landing style was as smooth as her driving.

He wondered what Scrooge would still need him for.

His families seemed to be doing just fine without him. So what was he good for? At least when he was well he could serve some semblance of a purpose. Now he was just a burden, easily ignored and forgotten. He hated himself for letting his health deteriorate until his performance suffered and his body couldn’t take it anymore. He had even lost his ability to crash safely. Who was he if he couldn’t even do that anymore?

Della hadn’t answered his calls all day or all night. It made him too nervous to sleep. Had she seen his text messages? Was she safe? Was she okay? Did she get a long with Drake and Gosalyn? Had she gotten the hang of crimefighting?

He stayed up late into the night checking his phone over and over, waiting for some sign that she had received his messages. 

_To be continued..._


End file.
